


Life in Laketown

by baneofdurin



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Fluff, Gen, bain is a ball of fluff, bard is an a+ husband, bb tilda, bowbies, fun dad bard, future chapters will be fluffier maybe, here be (mentions of) dwarrows, i guess, like if spoilers were salsa this would just be chopped tomatos, no really, plus dwarves will show up, sigrid is awesome, super mild dos spoilers, the bardlings, underage drinking kind of, way to go bard
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-03
Updated: 2014-01-03
Packaged: 2018-01-07 06:45:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1116747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baneofdurin/pseuds/baneofdurin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A dumping ground for my headcanons about Bard and Co.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. *circle of life plays*

**Author's Note:**

> good lord i suck at titles
> 
> wholesome bardfam headcanons for all!

The first time Sigrid lays eyes on her new brother, she asks if there is still time for them to send it back. Da laughs uproariously at that, and, even after the five hours of labor, Mama manages one of the grins that Da waxes poetic about.

The next time a new baby joins the family, it’s not such a happy occasion. Sigrid has known Mama was sick for a long time now. Even as her belly swelled with life, Mama grew more and more withdrawn from Da, Sigrid, and even Bain, who took his first toddling steps as Mama slept in the other room (Da had made a fuss, and coaxed Bain even further into his waiting arms, but Sigrid hadn’t missed his glance to the closed door). 

The start of the labor is not as dramatic as Bain’s coming was. When last time it had come as a complete surprise, in the middle of dinner, this birthing had been a long time in the waiting. Da had even fetched the midwife twice in the weeks prior, only to send her home after deeming it a false alarm. Now that it’s the real thing, he gets her to Mama’s bedside in record time (and this time he manages to not fall in the canal out of sheer nervousness).

After all the waiting that Sigrid went through the first time around (and she doesn’t even want to acknowledge how many more screams reverberate through the thin wooden walls this time), though Bain whining and squirming on her lap is a new addition, Da opens the door and offers a faint smile.

“How do you feel about another sister, Bain?” he asks.

His grin doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but in favor of a new playmate, Bain doesn’t notice. Sigrid does.

Da ushers them into his and Mama’s room, letting his hand catch Sigrid’s shoulder as he guides them to the bed with Mama and their new sister. Mama’s sweaty hair is slicked back from her colorless forehead, and her eyes are closed. Sigrid winces as Bain hops up on the bed beside Mama and the babe cradled loosely in her arms but Mama doesn’t open her eyes at the movement. 

Sigrid looks up at Da when Mama continues to sleep (she hopes) and is shocked to see his eyes glistening with unshed tears. When he sees her staring, he presses a finger to his lips, nodding at Bain, who is poking the babe’s forehead to see if it will move. 

“Bain, are you sure that’s a good idea there, son?”

Bain’s head whips up, eyes impossibly wide and innocent.

“What’s her name, Da? Mama won’t answer me.”

Da sighs, and reaches out to take the babe from Mama’s limp arms. 

“Tilda,” he says reverently. “Her name is Tilda.”

Sigrid’s jaw drops.

“You named her after Mama?” she says, tugging on Da’s sleeve. “But she’s still alive!”

Da swallows audibly, gestures Bain down from Mama’s bed, and kneels down with the babe still in his arms.   
“Mama is very sick. She had to work so, so hard to bring this babe into the world, but all that hard work has tired her out. She’s going to have to sleep for a very long while. So long, that by the time she wakes up, you two will be as old as Margrod across the canal. You won’t see her for quite a long time, but you will see her again.”

Sigrid knows what he means, and Bain is nodding as if he understands Da’s pretty words as well. 

The babe in Da’s arms- Tilda- chooses that moment to let out a loud squall, shocking Da as well as Sigrid and Bain.

The loud noise wakes Mama up as well, although she can’t seem to open her eyes all the way. She holds out her arms for Da to place Tilda in, and draw her up close to her chest.   
“Sigrid,” she croaks out, and gestures with her fingers for Da and Bain to leave. Sigrid doesn’t like her voice like this, it sounds like the door hinges before Da poured oil on them, and not Mama’s laughing lilt. 

“Sigrid,” she says again. “My oldest baby…”

Sigrid isn’t sure quite what to say, so she remains silent.

“Such a good girl. Promise me you’ll take care of your brother when I’m gone…”

“I already do that, Mama.” Sigrid can’t help but reply, even though the knot in her throat does its best to block her words from getting out.

“I know, love. You do such a good job, too. Such a good girl… You need… to watch after Tilda too.” Mama’s voice is coming weaker now, and she’s blurring through Sigrid’s watery eyes.

Sigrid can’t respond, if she does she will start crying and Mama needs to focus on herself, not Sigrid’s weakness. She blinks the tears away and nods, hoping that Mama will see and know what Sigrid means. She always knows. 

When Sigrid wakes up in the morning, Da is holding a sleeping Tilda in the kitchen as silent tears stream down his face.


	2. Winter Shenanigans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fun with the Bardlings  
> Also Bard is a FUN DAD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed the name of this because a) i named this at one o clock in the morning and b) it really doesn't fit the rest of the story

Tilda has always loved winter. Even though she has to wrap herself in the bulky quilt-like coat that had been Sigrid’s once upon a time to even consider opening the door, she firmly believes that the ice-skating alone is worth the bone-chilling cold. 

Laketown is built around the canals; they are a web of water that weaves the town together- but even they cannot survive the harsh winters in the shadow of the Lonely Mountain. Around mid-November, the lake freezes solid, halting trade and the fishing industry in its tracks. The residents have lived there long enough to know that they must begin stocking up on food in early September, canned fruits and salted meats from far away settlements and the Mirkwood elves. They know exactly when to bring the canoes in, so they are not trapped in the vice grip of the frozen lake. There is a special kind of chill in the air the night they must tie up Da’s boat to the ceiling of the storeroom that lets them know that the next day, they must strap on their skates.

After the canals are frozen, the only way to navigate the town is to skate over the thick ice from house to house. Usually, Da will send Tilda to accompany Sigrid to distribute food to their elderly friends whose legs are too shaky to support their wrinkled bodies on the slippery ice. He knows how much she enjoys skating, faster that she could ever run on the docks and piers without falling in. The chill wind off the lake hits her full on the face as she speeds down the icy lane, and Tilda can only open her eyes wide enough to avoid crashing into anyone’s house. Sigrid is not nearly as adventurous as her, cradling the basket of food to her chest and calling for Tilda if she gets too far away from her. 

Sometimes Bain will accompany them, when Da has other business to attend to and he needs Bain out of his shadow. He skates circles around Sigrid, causing her to almost drop the basket more than once. He and Tilda race each other up and down the canals, and Tilda always, without fail, wins. It has only just occurred to her this year that maybe Bain isn’t pushing himself as fast as he could during those races.

Sigrid worries, as Sigrid is wont to do, that one day the ice will not be thick enough to support them, or they will fall and put the sharp blade of a skate through an eye. She makes sure that all three of them, Bain and Tilda and Da, have enough layers and scarves and mittens, knitting endless yards of wool into something useful. She always makes Tilda dark purple mittens, because that’s Tilda’s favorite color and that’s just how Sigrid is. They will distribute the extra mittens along with the extra food, which is just reason for Sigrid to make more. 

Bain gets cabin fever during the winter. He needs to feel occupied at all times, and sometimes it’s too cold to even skate. During one such day, when he is this close to banging his head against the wall in need of something to do, Sigrid sits him down, shoves a pair of knitting needles in his hands, and walks him through all the steps of knitting a scarf. His first attempt turns out horribly, looking more like a knitted horseshoe than a scarf, but it gives him something to do. After that, Bain is nearly as unstoppable as Sigrid, turning out scarves at an alarming pace. One that he makes is nearly as tall as Da, and Da hangs it in a place of honor above the dinner table (two years later, when yarn is in short supply for the first time in ages, Bain takes it down and unravels it to turn it into a blanket for the new baby three houses over). 

Tilda learns how to knit the winter after that, and then, when the wind is howling against the door, the four of them, including Da (who do you think taught Sigrid to knit in the first place?) all have knitting races around the fire, churning out veritable mountains of knitwear to see who can finish first. It’s warm and cozy and family. Sigrid has always had the fastest fingers of them all, and sometimes Bain finds hats stashed under her chair so that she isn’t the constant winner. 

(Years later, when thirteen dwarves and a hobbit come out of their toilet, the youngest dwarf looks at their pile of yarn in the basket near the fire in awe. And years after that, after the dragon is dead and the dwarves have their mountain back and they have never had so much, they find out his name is Ori, and he joins their little knitting circle around the fire at night. Da takes time from being Lord of Laketown to join on those nights.) 

One day in December, when Sigrid and Bain and Tilda are sitting at the table wrapped in blankets and laughing at some joke Bain told that probably wasn’t that funny, Da throws the door open, letting in the chill, and the three of them scream and try to hide in their blankets, which only results in Bain getting tangled and falling to the floor in a heap. Da is grinning impossibly wide as he pushes the door shut and tells them to put on their coat and come with him, in that booming voice he gets when he’s excited. 

Bain pokes his head of out of his pile, looking like a confused turtle, his eyes wide and his hair a mess around his face. 

“Where are we going, Da?”

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” Da winks, and they all know that they’re not getting a straight answer from him until they do as he says. When they’re all bundled up, Tilda wearing two sweaters at Sigrid’s insistence, Da scoops Tilda onto his shoulders, wrestles a hat over Bain’s curls, and hugs Sigrid as close to his side as he can get with all of the layers they’re both wearing. 

He leads them out the door, stops on the stoop, and gestures out in front of him. There, covering the canal and walkway in front of them, is a covering of snow, enough to leave deep footprints in. 

“Yes Da, we’ve seen snow before.” Bain grins up at Da.

Da cuffs him playfully on the shoulder. “That’s enough cheek from you. And this is special snow.”

He draws four cups from his pockets and hands one to each of them. 

“Here, fill these up as much as you can. Your Mama and I used to do this when it was the right kind of snow.” A slight shadow of pain crosses his eyes when he mentions Mama, but it’s gone as soon as it appears and his bright smile is back on his face. 

Sigrid looks a bit skeptical, but when she looks at Bain and Tilda already filling their cups on the ground, she kneels down and joins them.

“I think Da’s lost it.” She whispers loudly.

“Oi! I heard that, you!” He calls back.

“That’s because you were meant to.” Sigrid grins sweetly at him. The next thing Tilda knows, a ball of wet snow is hitting Sigrid in the middle of her back. She screams in surprise and whips around, still kneeling, to see Da with a wide grin plastered across his face. The next moment, that grin is wiped off with a bigger ball of snow to his forehead. 

“You little demon!” Da roars, but he’s laughing. 

A wet splat hits Tilda next, and Bain is rolling on the ground, clutching his stomach. In no time flat, Da unleashes another round, hitting each of his children in turn. It’s a complete mess, white clinging to the knitwear they’re all decked out in and laughter ringing across the canal. 

Finally, after Sigrid, Bain, and Tilda form a team and tackle him into the snow, Da surrenders, with his children still sitting on top of him laughing. Bain’s hair is completely white, clumps of snow dangling in his eyes. Da sits up, causing Tilda and Sigrid to tumble off his chest to the side, and wraps his arms around Bain, who had been holding his legs down. He rolls over so Bain is underneath him, then pushes off the ground on either side of Bain, and stands up. He’s completely covered in snow, looking more like a great white bear than a man. 

“I yield!” He holds his hands up in surrender. “Now can we get inside, there’s snow down my pants.” 

Laughing, they all gather the cups that had been dropped in the frenzy. Da won’t let them go back inside until they scoop more snow into the cups for whatever he had been planning.

After stripping off all their wet outerclothes, they all gather in the kitchen around Da, who is holding a jug of elven wine. He pours some into each of their cups of snow.

“Eat up! It’s good!” He encourages.

They all sit around the fire, eating their snow and wine, and Tilda thinks that yes, winter is definitely her favorite time of the year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow Bard so responsible giving your kids wine  
> I wanted to make a Middle Earth Equivalent of ice cream, but i couldn't pass up the chance to put elven wine in my story, just pretend its kiddy wine or something


End file.
